Tiempos Desperados
by Rabid Dreamer
Summary: Devious intentions in mind and doll in hand, Angelica contrives her own manner of persuasion. Her doll is anything but complacent however.
1. Playing with Dolls

A mischievous smile growing on her features, Angelica held Jack's small doppelganger in hand. She had spent no less than four days on that God forsaken spit of land yet she could not bring herself to summon the overwhelming upsurge of hate and vengefulness she had experienced upon her inconstant lovers' first betrayal. How could she, when he had (however begrudgingly she may admit) saved her life? Or rather, when she knew she would have done the same? The miniscule islands' even smaller coconut tree, though, simply wasn't sufficient enough to sustain her life for much longer. _Tiempos desperados exigen acciones desperadas*, _she thought as she lifted the doll up to her sun dried lips.

Juggling the overly painted woman on his lap from one leg to the other, Captain Sparrow reached a hand up to slap at his ear.

"Wha' is it 'andsome?" she asked, hand stroking his mop of hair in what he assumed was supposed to be a seductive manner. He mentally chastised himself. It wasn't the poor girls fault if her hair was too blond; eyes too blue; frame too thin; manner too…not _her_. Bloody hell he was such a bloody sap.

"Nothing love, just felt a…" he shook his head and rubbed his ear once more. What was that damn blowing sensation? There wasn't a breath of wind in the crowded and rowdy tavern. He glanced behind him; no one there. He looked at the woman (Joy? Joanne? Jane? He never was good with names), who looked quizzically back at him. He opened his mouth to speak again…only to stop mid word and narrow his eyes. The woman sat on the other side of him, staring at him clear as day. Then why did he feel a pair of lips settle at the base of his neck, tongue boldly probing the area?

The woman cocked her head in surprise, enquiring once more whether he was alright. This went unnoticed by Jack as the invisible mouth traveled steadily up his neck, leaving a path of rattled nerves. Just as the nipping reached the crease between ear and neck, a feather light stroke began somewhere much farther south along his bodily borders. The stroking became firmer, making his jaw slacken and eyes roll. The visible woman at present blanched in shock, leaning away from the suddenly overwrought pirate.

"Suh, ya'll righ'? Suh? Captain?" as her tone began to take on a frantic note, Jack suddenly snapped to, brow furrowed and eyes darting from side to side in a whimsical expression of shock and disbelief. Without another word he stood up from his seat, plopping the thoroughly flabbergasted woman off his lap with a short "Sorry, love" and darted to his rented lodging on the upper floor. He quickly slammed the door shut before collapsing against it, touching his forehead to the beaten wooden and releasing his raging erection from his confining trousers.

The tickle of ghost fingers could still be felt on his person as he racked his mind, attempting to remember what he could have possibly done lately to bring this about. All thought was swept from his mind, however, when the lips that had so ardently suckled his neck wrapped themselves around his member. It was a curious sensation, like viewing a painting with the _essence_ of a fruit as opposed to a clear drawing; a bundle of adjectives as opposed to a concise word. There wasn't a drop of moisture on his lower anatomy nor a solid physical being but he knew even his wild imaginings could not conjure up something that felt so…so real. And so he gasped and panted as he felt a mouth that wasn't there expertly serve him.

Feeling his knees weaken slightly, he pushed himself away from the door to stumble to his bed. Falling back onto it with a groan and a sigh, he decided to wait out the torturous pleasure, choosing to enjoy it while he could rather than question it. His invisible lover was proficient, bringing him to completion only moments later with a load groan of gratification.

Panting heavily, he lay on his bed, eyes hooded with drowsiness and soiled loins more satisfied than they had been in quite some time. Not since Angelica in fact. Angelica! How could he have forgotten!

_*Translation: Desperate times call for desperate measures_


	2. Willing Labor

Up. Down. Up. Down. Pause.

Slipping off his stifling coat and beloved hat, Jack wiped his brow before taking up the oars again.

Up. Down. Up. Down they went, slowly pushing the…borrowed…dingy to the ever approaching shore.

Up. Down. Up. Down. Up. Down. Pause. Deep exhale of breath. He takes a moment to contemplate his foolishness, musing on how only the woman waiting in the near distance could ever force such willing physical labor from him and still have him panting for more. Resting an elbow on one knee and a hand on the other, he turns himself to look at Angelica's current prison. By a glance he could see that his work had paid off, the island far larger than it had been before.

Deep inhale of breath. Up. Down. Up. Down. Up. Down. Pause. He looks back again. Squinting his eyes, he can just make out Angelica's form. There she lies; back rested against the sole tree of the island, arms crossed behind head, hat covering her face. She wears only a stained white tunic, her bare legs stretched seductively in front of her. A smirk creeps across his features as his eyes dart to the clothes hanging on a higher branch to the nearly nude form of Angelica. This was going to be fun.

Ominously mischievous chuckle. Up. Down. Up. Down. Up. Down.

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Thanks for the reviews guys! I'm glad you're enjoying it cuz I enjoy writing it :)


	3. Taming the Tempest

Huffing from exertion, Jack finally _finally_ pushed the dingy to shore. After setting everything in order, he turned his hungry attention to his lounging prey. The ivory powder beneath him burned as he snuck quietly through its depths. Crouching down like a tiger about to spring, Jack faltered a moment (to insure Angelica was truly asleep) before pouncing.

The unsuspecting Spaniard let out a startled yelp as she was trapped within a pair of arms. Despite her efforts she was easily wrested to the ground, her capturers' body weighing down on hers. Incensed, she turned her head to gaze upon who had dared treat Angelica Teach in such a manner.

"Hello darling. Miss me?" said Jack cockily with a victorious smirk. Her own features gawked with recognition before morphing back into rage. Her teeth gnashed; black mussed curls strewn on the sand; full lips pulled back in a growl; livid eyes scorching his amused gaze. To Jack she appeared a lusciously dangerous Goddess, even in her disheveled state.

"Get. Off. Me. Now." She spat. The pirate above her merely chuckled. She thrashed and tussled wildly, attempting to throw him off. Unfortunately, even with her normal strength he tended to physically overpower her with his surprisingly masculine bulk. Therefore, having survived on mere coconuts for the past three days also didn't help matters.

"Now, now sweetness." He lightly chided, "is that any way to greet your perpetual savior?" The hellcat would not be tamed however. Nearly growling, Angelica ferociously released a string of obscenities, lashing at him with the only limb able to currently do so: her tongue.

"Cabron! Vete para el carajo! Que te jodas en el infierno!" She continued to fight relentlessly but, to both her and her capturer's knowledge, futilely. Jacks smirk quickly grew into a full-fledged grin at her weak attempts. Had she known the effect her squirming was having on him she'd have bitten his ear off…and not in the pleasant sense.

He bit back a groan as a certain swivel from her hips hit sensitive territory. She grunted as said bulk was pressed down on her more vehemently than before, Jacks own anger emerging in reply to her own and the newly created bruise.

"Oh no Angelica love. _You_ called _me_ here." another push of his pelvis onto hers. Her eyes widened at the stiff protuberance that lay between them "And however…satisfying your methods may have been, your playtime is over," he leaned closer to whisper in her ear, "Now it's my turn."

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I'm planning on adding more to this chapter soon but thought I should at least post what I do have so far. Thanks for reading and review please :)


	4. Stirring Stings

"Go to hell Sparrow." she spat, turning her head to look him directly in the eyes. " You left me here to rot! Now the only game we're playing is one where you'll get _off_"a sharp shove from her body "me and I'll sail away from this island with our withou...hmph!" Grown weary of her incessant verbal attacks Jack, ever the opportunist, decided to busy her scorching tongue with a much more pleasant activity.

At first she kept her lips firmly pressed against his onslaught, refusing to succumb to his tempting madness…again. He would not be deterred, however, and began massaging her immobile lips with his own. A few moments pass…

Her lips softened.

Her eyes rolled closed.

Her mouth opened to his probing tongue… and she was putty in his hands…again.

As the passion mounted, Jacks hold morphed from one of entrapment to embrace, one arm cradling her head, the other wrapped around her waist. Her hand came to clutch his neck while the fingertips of the other explored the once familiar expanse of his chest. She could feel new ragged bumps on his skin as she brushed over his sea of tattoos and scars. When her hand brushed over her late father's symbol on Jacks right pectoral, she stiffened, pulling her lips from his own.

"Let me go." She softly uttered, the almost desperate protest laced with the barest hint of a sob. Jack stared down at her closed eyelids, brow furrowed with thought.

To call him a 'ladies' man' would be an understatement.

If he pondered long enough (with some added help from a bottle or two of rum) he could probably think of a lass for every port and town in the Caribbean which he had wooed for a time (some even in international locations). Giving stings of pain that stemmed from short 'romances' and even shorter 'playtimes' was no new feat for him.

Yet most lasses, however, moved as quickly as he did from their short tete-a-tetes. He thought it caustically comical and even befitting that the one woman who felt the greatest stings from him gave him the most potent stirrings.

_Fix this, _commanded his often absent inner voice. He caressed her lovely saddened face with his gaze. _Fix this now_, said every fiber of his being. The question, of course, was how.

_Ah, well,_ he thought lowering his head, _Desperate times and all that… _ignoring Angelica's noise of protest, he swiftly captured her in another kiss.

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Hellooooooo readers! So sorry for the long wait but here it is! I've decided to stick with my short chapters and yet another one is coming along. Review and I'll give you a hug...a virtual hug?

P.S. By the way my next chapter is going, I'd stop reading if you're against written...smexy scenes...now. You're welcome.


	5. El Ritmo del Pasion

Engulfed would be the only way to describe Angelicas current predicament. The weight of his body, his touch, his smell, the lingering memories that had assumedly faded; she is drowning in a sea of Jack Sparrow. Rather than continue to struggle against his intoxicating waves, however, she floats. Releasing a sigh and her stubborn Spanish pride, she surrenders to the man she had been fighting for years...just this once, of course.

Upon feeling her limbs relax Jack cautiously leaps into action. Tentatively, the hand around her waist begins to caress her clothed side, quickly pressing more firmly when he is met with no protest. Swiftly curling his fingers into her shirt, he draws it up to her navel, past her ribs and over the firm mounds of her breasts. Separating his lips from hers with an audible 'pop', she willingly raises her arms to let the shirt slide over her head before he molds their mouths together once more.

The first peak of revealed flesh is a catalyst, spurring them to frantically, desperately divest themselves of the suddenly plentiful fabric that burdens their forms. Soon enough their bare limbs lay tightly intertwined on the soft bed of sand. The small white grains stick to their lightly perspiring skin but the two temperamental lovers could hardly be bothered with such trivial details. In fact, anything and everything faded into nothingness in the wake of the anger, lust, spite and reluctant affection that comprised their smoldering passion.

Shifting so that Angelica lays beneath him, Jack hovers above her. Marvelously naked, chest heaving softly, dark curls strewn in a halo around her head; he is certain he'd never seen a more perfect sight.

Growing impatient, she locks her lithe legs around his waist, pulling him towards her with a whine. Needing no further encouragement, he finally, _finally_ joins their aching bodies together for the first time in what feels like centuries.

Pausing for just a moment to reacquaint himself with the utter feeling of wholeness that came with being one with Angelica, Jack slowly begins to move. One arm goes around her waist, clutching her to him. Fingers snake into messy, sand filled curls. Her hands grip his flexing back muscles; hips roll to meet his.

For what must be the thousandth time since he'd met her he praises whatever higher power for the Hispanic blood that runs through her. The marvelous mounds and crevices of said heritage press tightly against him, moaning out curses in the native tongue to accompany the primal sounds of sex.

Sensing her finale drawing nearer, he picks up his tempo.

"Fuck!" the cry is wrenched from her lips as he pounds her relentlessly. All is overcome by the inexorable rhythm, the constant joining of his body with hers, pelvis hitting against pelvis. Lips try to frantically reach each other.

Then Angelica is throwing her head back, arching her body, positively shaking with release…and then it's over...for her.

Mind reeling with pleasure, chest heaving with exertion, Angelica finally finds enough focus to see that Jack still lies atop her, face contorted in pained concentration as he takes measured, purposeful breaths.

Confused, she stares at him and opens her mouth to speak when his eyes suddenly snap open, a mischievous and triumphant smirk lighting his features.

He was far from done with her yet.

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Yes, I know, I KNOW. As a few reviewers have reminded me, this is ridiculously late. My apologies and internet hugs for all :)

I'll hopefully be putting up one or two more chapters and then viola! My work is done. Reviews give me butterflies and rainbows in my tummy...which I quite enjoy...by the way...


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